


Revisionist History

by swiftishere



Series: MSA One-Shots [25]
Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, MCD is Lewis obvs, Magic, Resurrection, another thing i'd like to continue but probably won't, does it count as denial if you end up being right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27793477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swiftishere/pseuds/swiftishere
Summary: They find Lewis's body only a couple days after the accident at the cave. Stabbed through the heart, apparently, and then left to rot because Vivi was too preoccupied with getting her still-living teammate to safety.And then everyone else starts to move on. But Arthur isn't so quick to give up - he knows the sorts of desperate means people use to bring their loved ones back from the grave, and damnit, if anyone deserves it, it'sLewis.
Relationships: Arthur & Lewis (Mystery Skulls Animated)
Series: MSA One-Shots [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1440190
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Revisionist History

They found Lewis's body only a couple days after the accident. Arthur had still been in the hospital, when someone had brought the news to him. He'd fallen from the cliff and been impaled on a spike, and in Vivi's rush to get out of there, they must have missed the body. Someone reassured him that he'd died quickly, at least - he'd hardly felt a thing.

And then apparently everyone decided that the case was closed. "He's gone," he's heard so many people say since then, sometimes gently, sometimes derisively, unbelieving that he's still _in denial_. That they found the body, that a funeral was being prepared, but Arthur _still, somehow,_ wasn't ready to accept that he was 'actually' dead.

But isn't the whole point of their job that nothing is ever _really_ gone? How many ghosts had they seen already - hissing, attacking, lost in blind fury or hunger for the living - and fucking _Lewis_ didn't deserve to come back? No, that's bullshit. He's _not_ going to accept that. That's not right, and he is _going to do something about it_.

The real miracle comes at the funeral, when someone - one of Lewis's family, probably, but he wasn't paying enough attention to register who - presses a locket into his hands, saying _he'd want you to have this, it was a gift from you, after all_. One of Lewis's most treasured possessions, it had been, he'd carried it with him constantly up until his death. Arthur tucks it away in his pocket and nods somberly, not about to betray how fortunate this is.

Not much longer after that, he tries to start in on his plans. Working is a struggle, one-handed and still weaker than he'd like to be - so he tears himself away from sketching and reading, much as it hurts him to do it, and asks Lance to help him build a new arm.

He doesn't tell him why he needs it done so fast, or why the design has so many particular requirements, and Lance doesn't ask.

Then finally he retreats to the shed out back of the shop, the one he'd always used as a private workshop, and begins in earnest to build.

The product is a blend of magic and machine, pulling on combined knowledge from both his jobs, something he's sure everyone would be very impressed with if they were allowed to see it. He can't recall how many different ways he's seen some stupid magician try to resurrect an army of the dead, or a heartbroken occultist to bring back their lost love - it never works, and _he_ knows why now. Magic alone can't carry a life back from the brink - but an electric current can help it along. The runes ( _the ones he's been laid in the center of to bleed out so many times before_ ) are now engraved onto rough-cut circles of scrap metal, standing up to be run through with wires.

And in the center of the twisting metal plates and exposed wiring, he places a container. A glass heart, with concentric runic circles engraved on it, a classic resurrection spell - and within it hangs the locket.

He's forgotten how to be anxious, by the time he's done with the tireless, endless building. This has to work. It _has_ to. There is no alternative.

The batteries he's been hoarding for weeks are connected. He flips the switch.

Several things happen at once.

There's a distant dull _thud_ , like something landing heavily on the roof. The lanterns he's been working by suddenly shatter and go out all at once. In the absence of their light, it's even easier to see it when the engravings on the metal begin to glow, electricity escaping its confines and jumping from letter to letter. They reach the locket, there's a flash of gold, and then for a while there is no light at all.

Slowly, so much so that it almost seems like a trick of the eyes at first, a pink-purple light begins to glow in the same spot. Gradually it takes on a barely-human form - a skull, familiar formalwear, two plated gloves wrapped around the large glass heart that's now swirling pink and gold. By the time fire coalesces into the familiar pompadour, Arthur finds himself crying with relief, a tight fear he didn't realize he had suddenly vanishing.

Bright magenta eyes stare first at the heart, and then slowly travel up to look at him, jumping with yellow sparks.

 _"What... did you... do?"_ says a voice he recognizes immediately, with a rush of happiness.

"It _worked,_ " he chokes out, pulling off the goggles and stumbling forwards. "Thank _god_ \- Lewis, you're _back!_ I-"

A large fist closes around his neck, yanking him up to eye level.

Those sockets are searching his face now, and- Arthur _has_ to be imagining the anger in that furrowed brow, right? Yeah, expressions are hard to read with no mouth, he's just surprised, that's all. The hand tightening around his throat is - he just wanted to pick him up, hasn't realized it's hurting yet, anyone would be a little fuzzy after-

The eyes narrow further. _"Why? Why would you_ ** _do_** _this?"_

He isn't even given time to think of an answer to that question, because apparently whatever that piercing gaze is searching for is found lacking, and he's thrown unceremoniously to the side, colliding roughly with a corner of the wall and the machine.

From the floor, he can make out fuzzy imprints of a pink-and-gold blur- _Lewis_ \- drift towards the door, and- pull it open? But he locked that, he's _sure_ he did, how...?

And then the chain of sleepless nights and days without food and the lack of oxygen in that death-grip catch up to him all at once, and his vision goes completely black.

* * *

"He's been holed up in that shed for near a fuckin' week at this point," Lance says with a sigh. "Won't even answer me when I go out there. Weren't for all the goddamn racket he's making in there, I'd think he fell asleep."

Vivi's hands drum on the counter. "Well, why haven't you broken in yet?"

"Door's padlocked shut from the inside. Not much I can do, apart from taking the fucking wall down." The actual answer is longer and more complicated, and Vivi will like it even less, because it pretty much boils down to _because he needs his space and invading his privacy won't do any of us any favors_ , and she's too worried to take that well.

Another one of those shivers, and she stands suddenly, her chair screeching on the floor. "I'm going out there to talk to him, and if he doesn't answer, I'm getting in there. One way or another."

He sighs and stands to follow her. _"Kid-"_

But she stops only halfway across the yard. Both of them stop and stare at the shed.

The door is very decidedly wide open, swinging freely on its hinges and exposing a very dark inside.

"Um. Lance?" she says, tugging at her sleeves. She suddenly sounds very small and uncertain.

He thinks about giving her a _well, you wanted to get in_ , but in the end all he says is, "yeah," as he starts towards the shed, pushing the door all the way open with one hand.

"Artie? You in- oh, what the _fuck_."

The shed, formerly home to a couple tables and a wall of drawers, is now half taken up by some kind of enormous machine. It looks to have been thrown together out of large sheets of metal in various states of rusting, and whatever wires the kid could tear out of the shit he had lying around. It's _huge_ , rough-cut concentric circles supported by bits of wood, and in the center a couple sturdier-looking wires dangle freely, looking like something was attached to them until very recently.

Vivi pauses at the door, frowning when her hands brush what she thought was a handle. Glancing down, she realizes it's actually the remains of the padlock that was holding it shut. The metal shackle has been melted and pulled off the wall, letting the door open and creating a mangled metal blob. She stands there for a moment, staring at it in confusion. How did _that_ happen?

And then she hears Lance say "oh, _damnit_ ," and remembers where she is again.

She turns around to see him kneel down next to - oh, shit, that's _Arthur,_ lying motionless in a corner next to that huge machine. For a moment she can't think, all she wants to do is grab him and _bolt_ as fast as she can-

"He's alright," Lance says, interrupting her spiral. "Think he just fell asleep. 'Cept..." his hand shifts, and she catches sight of the marks on his throat.

It's the ghost of a handprint, she realizes as they both examine it. Whatever grabbed him left faint dark marks on the skin, like smudged campfire ashes.

"Should get him inside."

"What about-" Vivi gestures vaguely at the machine.

"Ain't going anywhere. More worried about whatever the hell decided to _choke_ him."

"Yeah, that's..." she glances towards the door and the melted padlock. "Yeah- you're right. Let's get inside. I'll tell Mystery to keep a lookout."


End file.
